Knox O Fixer
by The Orangest Child
Summary: Well, this was promised... and I don't even myself know how to feel about it. I'll keep you interested folks knowing what I'm planning. Don't throw slippers at me if something is foolish, mhm? I'm good... So, the summary itself: Life without Neil, Mr Keating and, the worst, without Charlie is pure hell for Knox. So, one night he decides to run away. Quite Choxy. At least will be
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_Okay, the first chapter. I'm biting my nails, because I don't know if this is a complete terror or something at least a little bearable. But I'll keep writing. Don't prepare the slippers and rotten tomatoes. If you decide to throw some shoes at me, at least throw brown and perforated. That would be better. I have a passion for the multi-chapters and for hurt-comfort, eh, my my.**  
**_

_Okay, I talk. All I wanted to say was 'don't kill me' and 'if possible - how does it feel?'_

_Enjoy!_

_Your faithful._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

* * *

I'm a-walkin' in the rain,

Tears are falling and I feel the pain,

Wishing you were here by me

To end this misery…

_Del Shannon – Runaway_

* * *

It's dark.

He tumbles in bed, curling up into a little ball of loneliness and straightening again, turning from his back to his sides, trying to hide his head under the pillow, but nothing helps.

His skull is filled with tangled thoughts, they make too much noise. No use trying to push them aside. Finally he turns on his back and stares at the ceiling. His cheeks are wet, he's glad that his roommate is sleeping. He closes his eyes not to see more emptiness – he's filled with it, he doesn't want more. And he starts untangling his thoughts. For the very first time in those three weeks and a half.

He thinks. First it's almost painful. But he forces himself to. And he seems to succeed. He catches the end of one thought – like a thread in a ball – and follows it…

Hellton is cold. Hellton is dull. Hellton is terrible. That makes it absolutely unbearable to stay there. But more than this all, Hellton is enormous. It has always been, but it became _especially _large lately. And it's definitely _way _too large for a guy like Knox.

He's all alone. He's surrounded by people – by absolutely different people – and you could say he has everybody. He has Chris. He has the Poets. He even has some teachers who aren't as conservative as Nolan. Though conservative isn't the right word. The word 'cruel' is on the tip of his tongue – but it'll never be said.

You can say he has them all. Maybe it looks like he has. But he doesn't have anybody. He's all alone in that enormous grey school. It's packed with people – and it's empty. Cold and empty. And lonely.

There's no life in grey walls. There's no life in the silence of the air. And there's no life in the dull faces that surround him.

Nothing will ever be the same. Nolan won. And they are knocked down. He wanted them down in shame, down in 'healthy' loneliness, down in silent obedience of the animals. But they couldn't stoop _that _low. They couldn't break.

Neil is not with them any more. Mr Keating – their Captain – is somewhere, nobody even knows where. And Charlie…

He winces and bites his lower lip to hold the unbidden tears back. It's wrong, terribly wrong, everything around, but he can't be weak. He cannot allow himself to be weak. He forces himself to think – that's all he can actually do now.

_Think, idiot. You are a man, aren't you?_

Yes, he is. So he follows the thoughts on.

Charlie is far away. In another state. Closer than might have been, farther than Knox can reach. Somehow of the three missing people Knox misses Charlie the most. No, the absence of any and all of them hurts, but it's different with each one. He tries to specify that as he had to wince again.

_No, I must. I have to do something to bring at least myself back to life. Maybe I will come up with something to do. With something… better…_

Neil, he thinks. Neil is no longer on earth among mortal beings. Good words to explain it, he thinks and grins to himself weakly. After those three and a half weeks the pain Neil's death has brought faded a little. It turned into some emptiness – like a round hole in the middle of Knox's heart. He has been trying not to think about him – and when he succeeded, he would feel better.

Mr Keating. The Captain. He is at least alive – but he is out of reach. Their 'O Captain! My Captain!' could be their last farewell. Knox sighs. If he only knew where the Captain is! He'd do the craziest things to get there. But nobody knows – perhaps because nobody actually wants to. And those who could possibly want are busy self-pitying.

Charlie…

Knox sighs deeper.

Without Charlie his life has no taste. Without Charlie his life is empty. It is like vacuum. An empty space – near him at the desk – the one which he still calls _theirs… _or behind him in the room where they used to listen to Mr Keating…

And the worst thing is that he can't even share those thoughts with anyone. After everything the students has become strange. They walk automatically, they act automatically. They've learned to stare at one spot for long hours when they are unable to sleep and don't have anything else to do. They are in some kind of a trance. Nobody even tries to fight. Todd's eyes are permanently red. Everybody's voices have become dull and monotone.

Knox frowns, understanding that he might as well be such a lifeless creature. He should keep himself alive. If he can't live normally without Charlie, he won't live without him. The only thing he wants to understand now is why he doesn't. Though he knows the answer. He has just always been afraid to admit it to himself.

Charlie…

Knox opens his eyes and closes them again.

Charlie has always been special. Charlie is his best friend – not 'was', it will never be 'was', but he _is_. And will forever be. But, at the same time, he has always been something more. When Charlie has touched him, something has risen from the depths of Knox's heart. When he has behaved like crazy – and crazy he is indeed! – something inside Knox has turned, snapped, and he's felt odd – and strangely good.

He doesn't know how to call it. But this very feeling seems to wake him up from that trance they've all been in.

Charlie Dalton.

Nuwanda.

Knox opens his eyes suddenly. His heart has just hit his ribs especially strongly – and he got an idea immediately. All he has to do is run away. Run away to Charlie. He can find his address in that book – he knows where it is kept. It should be there, where he thinks it is. He only needs to find out when the train to that town – or at least in that direction – leaves. And he needs a ticket…

Knox turns on his side. His eyes are shining. It appears to be so easy to find a way out of that state they all are in! His brain is working fast. He needs a plan – and he'll have it…

He wipes his still a little wet cheeks and smiles to himself.

_You're a genius, Knoxious, _- he thinks – and closes his eyes tight as his heart hits his ribs once again with the only thought of that name they used to call him in the better days.

Nuwanda and Knoxious. They are so different. But that makes them match and be whole. Like two pieces of one puzzle, they make one together. Charlie has chosen Knox – no, they both have chosen each other. God knows why. They've always been so together.

_Thought you can separate us? _– he thinks to himself, mocking at everybody. – _You'd better not! Because you can't._

The idea of the plan is simple as everything genial: he has to write down Charlie's exact address, then go and buy himself a ticket – the best if it is for a night train… and then just go! Quite easy. At least sounds so. Knox smiles to himself. With Charlie it will be better. Much better. He doesn't want to sit in Hellton, and he's sure that Charlie doesn't want to sit there – wherever he is – alone.

That will be good for everyone. Absolutely everyone. Knox and Charlie is an interesting mixture – they surely will come up with something that will wake everyone and everything up.

He makes himself comfortable on his bed. Well, he doesn't know when he will fall asleep tonight, if he even will – he'll just lie there thinking of his plan.

_This was a brilliant idea, - _he thinks to himself. _Soon I'll probably hear him call me Knoxious again. Soon I'll be there – maybe with me he'll wake up, too – anyway, it's not Charlie to stare at one spot! He'll be alive, he'll be crazy like he has always been – well, at least when he sees me._

He's forgotten all his worries – and we can't blame him for this. He's sure that everything is going to work out the best way. He closes his eyes and thinks of the plan – it is a great pleasure.

Soon his thoughts begin to fade. Knox falls asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Wonder how it feels... I keep on trying. I doubt more and more, but guess I'll keep on writing. I think it's quite slow, but... well, don't throw anything too heavy at me! ^)

Here it is. Enjoy, if possible ^) And if impossible - don't kill me.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

* * *

I don't wanna break

Before

The tour

Is over,

I'm gonna make

It mine,

Yes I,

I'll own it

I'm gonna make

It mine,

Yes I'll make it all mine...

_Jason Mraz – Make It Mine_

* * *

This actually was more difficult than he imagined, he thinks to himself, walking slowly and quietly across the grounds. First, he almost got caught when he found Charlie's address. He doesn't even remember how he has run away, but he managed. Then, when he had _already bought _himself a ticket – everything has been too easy, he should have expected something like that – he suddenly noticed two of the teachers. Before they turned to his direction, he found a second to disappear.

He can't really complain, though. The roommate didn't even notice he was throwing something in some strange bag. All in all Knox has been quite lucky. And now he's ready to run away, hiding in shadows, but he _will _split and he'll be free. He said it. Neil would support him. Nuwanda would like him to.

Interesting, he thinks, all the time he's been living only on preparations to that runaway he's been thinking how his old Nuwanda, who is sleeping somewhere far away, would like the idea. How he'd surely join him. He chuckles quietly, looking around. A few tenths of steps more…

And a sudden sound breaks the silence. His heart falls and he freezes in the shadow, scared, heart pounding in his throat. _God, no, no, only not to get caught…I can't right now…_

Some dark figure walks so close from him. He doesn't see the face in the dark, and he can't recognize the man. Knox stands there, trying not to breathe. _Go away_, he begs, staring at the man helplessly.

The man walks by in no hurry. Knox can't even see his profile on the dark background of the night. His steps fade, slow and even. Knox waits. Seconds are like hours. Finally everything seems silent. Knox looks around. Not a shadow moves around him. He swallows hard. _God, now this is scary_, - he thinks and tries to grin to encourage himself. He doesn't think he succeeds, though. He takes a deep breath and dares to step out of his quite safe cool dark…

The breath burns his face, he gasps, jumps away – he faces the man, whose features are still indiscernible.

- Oh crap! – he can't help but exclaim.

The next moment he's running head-long, like crazy. He doesn't even think, it's all on instincts.

_Only don't recognize me. No…_

This is the only thought jumping in his mind to the quick, hard rhythm of his feet hitting the ground. He doesn't hear anything but this rhythm – his heel hits the ground – his heart hits his ribs – and again, and again…

So this is how it is – to run away. It's just an endless stream of rhythmical hits, of fear that gives your tongue a strange taste – and a constant, extreme lack of air. It's when your heart beats in your throat, in your ears – and somewhere deep in the abdomen, it's when nothing exists and everything is damn _too real_…

* * *

He doesn't know how come that he is in that dark corner, curled up and shaking. It's just that something in his mind suddenly snaps – and he finds himself like this. He opens his eyes in surprise and looks around, trying not to make any noise.

He sees the dark skies overhead, the full moon, cold and pale. There's nobody near him. He doesn't remember how he has got here. He remembers the run across the grounds, he remembers the rhythm – and after that he doesn't remember a thing.

He shrugs. He has to do something. He straightens and gets up.

His bag is still on his back, he understands. His senses return. His thoughts fill his head slowly again. He shakes his head to make them run faster, he can't stand them crawling.

He comes out from between the roots of some large tree, stumbling as his knees are still weak. He comes out on the trail and turns around slowly, trying to regain his breath.

There's nobody around. He's standing alone on the empty trail. He looks around in amazement, because there's nothing but sky – free sky, and earth – free earth, and air – the free air, the air of freedom.

He did it.

He ran away.

Now he's free.

He jumps up and does a little triumphant dance. He's ready to scream and shout. He's made it! He's out! He's _free_!

He suddenly stops and glances at his watch. He's just thought of the train he could not miss. Now he has to hurry! He looks around to figure out where he is – and easily understands. He knows this place. Knows perfectly well. It's a miracle that absolutely accidentally he's reached the trail he planned to go and didn't get lost. He looks up and smiles at the skies full of freedom and runs down the trail.

* * *

The compartment is quiet. Maybe a little bit too quiet for such an excitement in Knox's heart. He wants to jump off his place, he wants to pace and run, he wants to do something, he needs desperately to be active. His knees are still trembling slightly, a little lump of excitement in his throat won't let him sleep.

He stands up and stares out of the window. A grin doesn't leave his face. He's going to be alone in the compartment so he feels even freer. His heart jumps and turns somersaults inside him.

Not knowing what to do, he sits down, makes himself comfortable and checks his things in the bag for umpteenth time. Then jumps to his feet again, stands staring out of the window, then sits down again. Seconds are almost like hours.

He pulls a little paper out of his pocket. It's already crumpled. Knox straightens it with care and looks at it. It's Charlie's address. He's already learned it by heart. But he won't throw the paper out. Partially it's just a fear that he accidentally forgets. But partially it's also that the paper is a little material reminder of Charlie's existence. Not just a memory, but something you can touch. Something you can see. Knox needs something material right now.

He feels that little vibration that always goes through the floor when the train is ready to go. It's like a tensed animal, it _wants _to go, to run – but it's not yet time. Knox closes his eyes and settles back, squeezing the paper in his hand.

The train is slowly getting its power. It's preparing. One more tremble – and it lets out a loud call – its _barbaric YAWP _– and starts its way, leaving behind that Hellton, that Nolan, those lifeless beings that everybody has turned into.

Knox smiles. He's running towards Charlie, he's started his way. He's gonna get there. He's gonna be with Charlie as he's always been before. And – he's gonna fix everything and everybody. No, not he – they. Their dangerous mixture. The explosive they make when together.

This thought makes him feel wanna sing. All the darkest memories have somehow faded. It seems to him that all he has to do for everything to be okay is get to Charlie. That's all that he needs to return the chemistry. And then…

_God!_

He opens his eyes wide and looks at the ceiling.

_God!_

He suddenly thinks what it'll be like when they meet. He imagines Charlie's face – slowly lighting with a smile. Maybe – with wide with amazement eyes. Maybe – with that grin he always had, or maybe – with a wide smile. He sees him turning back into his old Nuwanda. He sees him – more alive than all the remaining Dead Poets together!

Knox's heart hits his ribs and he smiles, closing his eyes tight again. He almost feels Charlie holding him – because he hopes that'll happen. He imagines them together again, like before.

_Stop, -_ he thinks, a smile on his lips lighting the compartment. – _Stop, in the name of everything! You're not out of your mind. This is just ridiculous! Just – stupid!_

But he can't help but admit that he likes it this way – he likes it ridiculous, he likes it stupid and funny. He likes it crazy, because he likes it Nuwanda. Because he likes Nuwanda himself. No, because he _adores _this guy without any common sense. He _loves_ him like nobody.

And the funniest thing is that he doesn't even really stop to think about that feeling. He just lives with it. He doesn't care what it is.

He smiles.

He lies down and stares at the ceiling with that stupid smile of happiness on his face.

Just a little. This night that will fly by like one minute if he falls asleep. So little separates him from Charlie.

He closes his eyes – and he sees his best friends' faces. And Charlie's face is the brightest of all. His sparkling dark eyes, his expressions, his smirks and squints. And his laugh.

The sound of Charlie's sax floats from somewhere far away. Knox closes his eyes and feels that hand messing up his hair… tapping his back… he hears that laugh… hears that saxophone playing… those tiny tomtoms…

'To indeed be a GOD!'

Knox smiles semiconsciously.

And Morpheus in Charlie's mask takes him to the land of dreams…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_Well, folks, here's another chapter. Charlie enters into play. Choxings keep on growing. I'm working! __Again - some brown perforated shoes are welcome, if you don't aim somewhere where it'll hurt ^) How does it feel?  
_

_For now I decided to keep on writing. Enjoy, if possible!_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Но я сорвусь с земли,

Словно пес с цепи,

И поднимусь в облака.

И я войду в облака,

Моя страна далека,

Но я найду тебя там.

О, картонные крылья -

Это крылья любви.

_Машина времени – Картонные Крылья Любви (translation in the end of the chapter)_

* * *

It's ten o'clock in the morning. The world visible from the compartment window is grey and not at all friendly. It's not happy to see the guests on that train. There's no trace of snow anywhere, there're only cold puddles around – not even of the kind the children love jumping into. He's sitting at the window staring at that grey corner of the world and barely seeing it.

He almost regrets his runaway. With the morning all the worries have returned. What if Charlie is not his old Nuwanda _anymore_? What if he sits alone staring at one spot blankly, too? What if the memories are haunting him? What if…

He plays with the piece of paper nervously. He shouldn't have, he thinks. That was a bad idea. He tries not to think about Charlie who could become just like the Poets – and doesn't succeed. And it's painful to realize that it's so very _possible_…

It's cold out there at the station. He adjusts his scarf, but it doesn't help. He hides his nose in the warm soft fabric and breathes into it wetly to at least try and keep the tip of his nose warm. Hands in his pockets… the gloves don't help and he thanks heavens that he has a backpack. He shrinks and looks around, shivering with cold.

* * *

In the café it's warm. Outside the rain has just started. Knox has ordered a tiny breakfast and a coffee to get warm – he knows what happens to him because of the alcohol, so he's decided not to risk. He sits at his table right near the window, alone at the table, and looks outside, and the raindrops run down the glass, leaving the little trails, becoming one, disappearing somewhere down there…

The town is so awfully, terribly grey. It's unbelievable. When he thinks of Charlie – of _his _Nuwanda – he wonders how that little ball of fire could grow up in that dull place. Though, maybe it had happened _right because_ the place was so dull. There had to be something to light it up.

If you think about it, he thinks, Charlie is really the only light in this cold and grey s_omething_. He's the only one bright in this colourless, characterless place. Though only God knows if he's still so bright. If he still smiles like he used to. If the flames still jump in his eyes all the time.

He looks at his coffee absentmindedly and takes a sip. It is hot, it burns his lips and tongue, but he doesn't react. Just swallows and waits till it feels better. His thoughts are far away.

He thinks of Mr Keating. He thinks – what if he's sitting just like him, somewhere in a dull grey town, and thinking of the Poets… of Neil… what if he is drinking his coffee right now and his thoughts are far away, too? What if he thinks: 'Oh God, is Charlie made of fire?' 'Oh my, Pitts is such a crazy fellow!' 'Gosh, how I _really _miss those fellas!'

He couldn't forget them. Not so easily. No, not that – he can't forget them at all. Never ever he will. Because – and Knox is sure – they meant to him as much as he meant to them. Or perhaps – still mean. Because everything that they all have been through doesn't just stay there. And it can't slip away so easily.

Charlie… something squeezes his heart. He presses his forehead to the cold glass and closes his eyes tight. Maybe he's just dreaming. It's too terrible to be real. This city is terrible. His plan is terrible. The possibility of Charlie being grey and dull is terrible. Just – everything is terrible…

A picture appears in front of his eyes: Charlie sitting on the bed and looking up at him helplessly. He sees Charlie's lips move – and he hears his words, quietly desperate, scary, _not Charlie's at all_: 'I'm sorry, Knox. I can't. It all is… too difficult to bear. I can't'. And, in despair, he falls on his knees, he grabs Charlie's shoulders and he begs – begs to at least call him Knoxious again, to do at least _something_ – but Charlie just looks away…

He opens his eyes wide again. He sees the wet glass and a view of the grey town. No Charlie. _That was not real. That might not happen. No, not might – it's a fifty-fifty chance: either he's my old Nuwanda – or some guy that I don't know. Anyway I don't know until I go and see him. Until I talk to him._

He straightens. He can't be weak, he reminds himself. He's decided to take the difficult way of waking up himself and waking the others. To make the explosive he needs Charlie. He needs their chemistry.

* * *

The coffee's warmed his insides up a bit. He feels a little better. A few blinks – and the melancholy starts its fading. He feels stronger. The food and the coffee have filled him with warmth and even some kind of safety. He digs his pockets and pays – and leaves the café. He feels that now he can go and fight – for himself and for Charlie.

The raindrops are still falling, so he has to wear his hood – and still he instinctively stoops.

He has to ask where the street is.

- Excuse me…

- Get off!

- Emm… excuse me, I…

- I'm sorry, I can't help you.

- Sir?

- I'm going to be late, kid, ask somebody else.

_Ahha, thanks for your advice, - _he thinks, following him with his stare. _So nice of you! If you also pointed at the one who'd answer, it'd be just amazing. Merci beaucoup, damn it!_

A few more attempts – and he just stops in the middle of the street. _What do I do now? – _he asks the air silently. The air doesn't answer, so he looks at the sky for a second or two, and, when it doesn't answer, too, he just walks down the street. _I need the town map. Ha-ha, very funny. I guess every street of it is called Grey and Dull._

* * *

The man in the tiny window looks at Knox curiously.

- The map? What for, son?

- I'm here for the first time, - Knox explains with a little smile.

The man squints and examines him for a second or two.

- Anyway I don't have them, - he says finally. – What are you searching for? I know this town like the back of my hand.

Knox says the name of the street. The man thinks, squinting, for a few seconds.

- Listen, son, are you looking for the Smiths or for the Daltons? – he asks finally.

- Why… why them? – Knox asks, perplexed.

- Because when people are looking for that street, they're mostly looking for either the Smiths or the Daltons, - the man explains simply. – I just know the shortest ways to their homes already.

Knox hesitates for a second.

- The Daltons, - he decides finally. Whatever, this man won't remember him tomorrow.

- Okay, let me see… - the man presses his fists to his cheeks and looks down. – Now you'll turn your back to me and go to your right. Count the turns. The third turn left is yours. And then down and down the street – and you'll see the Daltons' home in front of you.

- Oh my… thank you, - Knox's smile is wide and grateful.

- That's nothing, son, - the man smiles back. – I just have to tell you they might be away. I don't know.

- Thank you anyway! I'll see! – Knox throws over his shoulder on the run.

* * *

He stops only when he almost hits the high fence around the house. He grabs the rods just to stop and stands, holding them tight, for quite a while – he can't regain his breath.

_Now everything that separates us is this fence, - _he thinks. _The garden doesn't count. Neither do the walls._

He feels much better. He has to admit that the street where Charlie lives is not half bad. _I guess that's why two most respected families live here_, - he smiles to himself. The house looks quite friendly. Knox goes around it slowly, noticing everything. The fence is not too difficult to climb, he thinks. And that tree, there, so close to that balcony on the second floor, it could help a lot!

He comes to the gate – and stops, unsure. It's closed – of course. And he knows he can't just ring a bell and wait. He's not officially here… he's a runaway… nobody should know…

He looks up, at the sharp rods of the gate, not knowing what to do.

- Hey kid!

He looks around quickly. A middle-aged man is standing a few steps from him.

- Looking for the Daltons, ha? – he asks. Knox doesn't know what to say, but the fellow doesn't need his answer. – They're away, and you shouldn't wait for them until about midnight, - he informs, coming closer and examining Knox. – And I won't be sure that they come even then. Listen, I've never seen you here before!

- I'm… I'm new in town, - he explains with a weak smile.

- I see, - the fellow's eyes narrow as he grins – quite friendly.

- Well, if the Daltons are any way not here, maybe I'd better go? – Knox asks, taking a step back. _I don't need this fella to remember me, - _he suddenly thinks. _When they don't find me around Wellton, they'll begin to search for me everywhere – and there surely will be something in the papers…_

But the fellow comes up to him and looks at him piercingly.

- As you're here for the first time, it's my must to show you everything and help you, - he says.

- Oh, thank you, - Knox mumbles, taking another step back, - but I haven't even found a hotel to stay yet, you see, and…

- Then you're lucky! – the man almost shouts in joy. He's so glad he can help it looks funny. – I know the best hotel here and it won't leave you flat broke, son!

_Oh God, - _he thinks. _I wanted to get rid of one problem and found another one. The hotel is what I least need now. Anybody here having my name?! No, thanks._

- Ah… don't worry, I… - and he stops. _What – you? – _he thinks to himself angrily. _You fool, Knoxious. Were you thinking of telling him you have friends around? You're looking for a hotel. What's more, he'll surely ask what their name is. Oh God, you just needed to run across a fellow of this kind: the one who knows everyone and everything in the town. – _I'm not in hurry, - he finally decides, cursing himself inside. – Maybe we could just go somewhere. You could tell me about the town.

That's a good idea, the man's shining face says.

- Of course, son! The park is a perfect place, by the way, what's more, I'll show you some good people!

_ Just don't try to acquaint me with them, - _he thinks sarcastically, following the fella to the park. He's already understood that all his attempts to get rid of the guy are of no use, what's more, even when the fellow is walking his back to Knox, he somehow sees him. _Creepy. He must have a spare pair of eyes on the back of his neck, _- Knox thinks to himself.

* * *

- See that man there? He's old Dalton's best friend.

Knox, who's already half asleep, startles at the familiar surname.

- Who? – he asks, perplexed.

The fellow laughs. He's probably already noticed that the guy he's talking to is bored.

- That one, - he points his finger at a man in brown. – Oh, Dalton. The old fella is just a genius of his business.

He glances at the boy, and, seeing the sparkles of interest in his lively brown eyes – shiny, attentive and clever, but with some deep sadness on the bottom of the black pupils – encouraged, he lets his memories lead him.

- I've known him all my life. Even before he was such a successful banker. And, imagine, he achieved that success fully and entirely by himself, without any help, without any cheating. There are not many such people. But his son…

He pauses, so Knox decides to encourage:

- What's with the son?

The old fellow glanced at him absently and looked back at the grey heavy skies.

- Well, the son… don't know whom he took after. The family is so peaceful, his mother and father are such nice people. And him… a hooligan, all I can say! – he hits the bench with his fist. Knox smiles while he isn't looking. Yes, that's his Charlie… his Nuwanda…

- Why so? – he asks - just not to reveal who he is.

- Just got knocked out of the good school, - the old fellow sniffs. – Fought with somebody there, though had serious warnings before. He's always been such a little… - he hesitates, but after a second decides: - Bastard!

Knox smiles.

- And what happened after he was expelled?

- What could happen? He's now going to school not far away, not as good, as that - how was it... Wellton? But not that bad, you know. His father drives him there every day and controls his every move. And I say – that guy deserves a punishment!

Knox shrugs. _You don't know the punishments that fella has gone through! – _he thinks sarcastically. _And now he's going through one of the hardest. You don't know that I've come to get him out of it. Poor old fellow, you know nothing about Nuwanda!_

- I've heard something about the scandal in that school. Something that one boy has committed suicide… - the man says thoughtfully. – Have you heard anything?

- No, - Knox says a little absently. – But what about the son? What's his name?

- Charlie, - the fellow says. – The parents care for him so much. Gave him the greatest room in the whole house – the one with the balcony, you know – I've heard that they give him everything the most comfortable, they bought him everything, did everything for his comfort, sent him to that goddamn academy, ensured his future, and he… eh, what can I say? This boy is a black sheep of the family.

- Well, is he really that bad? – Knox smiles a little.

- I told you everything I knew, - the old fella shrugs.

Knox glances at his watch and gasps.

- Oh my. I need to hurry. I'm so sorry. Thank you for everything! Bye!

He's already running down the street, glad that he managed to escape. He thanks the old fellow a million times – he told him more than he thought he did – though it's difficult, Knox admits with a chuckle. He stops finally and leans on a high fence of some house, panting heavily. _The room with the balcony, -_ he thinks. _Ahha. Oh my, you were of the help you can't imagine to me! Thank you for being such a talkative and unsuspecting old fellow!_ He just needs to wait now. And that will be the most difficult thing to do, because his knees are trembling with excitement and the lump in his throat and his fast heartbeat won't let him stand on one place…

* * *

It's already dark. Well, it should be – it's almost midnight. He's jumping a little behind the house of the Daltons, every second glancing at the windows of the house and back at his dirty boots. _Turn off the lights, turn them off, turn them off. Go to bed, go to bed, guys, enough sitting there!_

Finally the Daltons seem to hear his quiet prayers. The windows get dark one after another – and finally the whole house is asleep. Knox knows he shouldn't go there immediately, but it's impossible to wait. It almost physically hurts to stand on one place, when Nuwanda is so close. He makes himself stand there for ten more minutes – they are like a whole century – and finally just grasps at the rods and climbs up the fence.

Thankfully, as he notices on the top of the fence, the curtains are all closed. Nobody can see him. He just needs to be quiet, that's all. He still remembers the man at the Wellton-Hellton grounds. So he does his best to pass unnoticed. First he wants to shrink or crawl, but a sudden thought strikes his mind. If he behaves like that, any passerby – though the latter is unlikely to show up – will suspect something wrong. However, if he's straight and walks slowly, nobody will think anything. They will confuse him for Charlie, he thinks as he straightens and goes slowly and quietly towards the tree right near the balcony. _Keep calm – and you won't have to run away. At least - run away alone…_

Well, that's it. He's under that tree. Another smile of fortune for him. He looks up at the skies and smiles at them – or maybe – back at fortune. She's been kind to him. He looks up at the balcony and notices a tree branch that's excellent for climbing from it to the balcony. He chuckles quietly. It's like in a book or a movie – such a happy accident. Everything is so easy… even too easy. But he doesn't want to worry. He jumps up and catches a branch, pulls himself up and climbs up carefully. He trembles and presses closer to the trunk when he's near the windows on the first floor. Who knows, where Charlie's parents sleep… he tries not to look there – even if they notice him, he won't know that. He doesn't want to know.

He looks up and up only. Another effort… and another… higher… hold the branch tight… he pulls himself up again – and he's completely out of sight from the first floor windows. He stops, holding on to one of the big branches and regains his breath. He's almost there. Another effort… and the last one… and he's sitting on that branch. It's thick enough not to break. He sits, leaning his back on the trunk and his legs on the sides of the branch for a few moments, just smiling stupidly and panting heavily. He's tired, pleasantly tired. And – he's excited more than ever.

He finally opens his eyes.

_Help me, - _he whispers, no, mouths at the skies – and leans forward and grabs the branch with his hands. And he starts moving slowly, carefully towards the balcony, trying not to look down.

It's easier than it has seemed. He just tries his best not to slide. One more effort – and he grasps at the balcony railing, releases the branch, one jump – and he's standing on the balcony. Not believing what he has just done, he comes up to the door, closes his eyes and presses his hands and cheek to the cold glass with a stupid happy smile.

_Oh God. I did it._

Not opening his eyes, he knocks at the glass quietly. Knox knocks, he thinks to himself and smiles wider. He doesn't care any more. Let the world roll down to the depths of hell, he won't care. A few moments and a thin cold glass separate him from Nuwanda. Or – from a big fail. But that doesn't matter.

The next moment the cold glass disappears and, as he hears a quiet gasp, the warm arms wrap tightly around him, pulling him into the room. He feels the living beating warmth pulsing against him, and he wraps his arms around Charlie, holding him tight, burying his nose into his shoulder.

_I'm here. I came._

He doesn't realise he's saying it out loud.

- Well, it took you quite a lot of time, - he hears the voice – that familiar mocking voice, but somehow it's so tender at the same time.

- Hello, Nuwanda, - he says quietly, not opening his eyes and not releasing him.

Nuwanda doesn't answer. He just laughs. And then he pulls away and squeezes Knox's shoulders. Knox opens his eyes and looks at Charlie, barely believing it. He must have a really stupid and happy look. Charlie laughs and messes Knox's hair.

- Yeah, - he says. – That's me. And that's you. You don't know how happy I am to see you, Knoxious…

And – he thinks it's for the first time – he sees a genuine smile of happiness on Charlie's face. And he knows he's _really _glad to see him. For a moment he forgets everything. Everything except those shining grey eyes, and those hands squeezing his shoulders, and that warm breath reaching his cheeks. Just for a moment. The next moment Charlie pushes him towards the bed until Knox's knees just give way and he sits – better to say, falls – there and just stays down, looking at Charlie, still amazed. Nuwanda laughs again, quietly and happily. He falls on the bed near Knox and puts his arm around his shoulders, and squeezes him and looks at him in joy.

- Tell me everything, - he says.

He's shining brightly, that sun of the grey town, and Knox looks at him and smiles humbly. He doesn't know why his heart has just hit his ribs so hard.

* * *

**Epigraph translation:**

'But I will break loose,

Like a dog form its chain,

And I'll fly to the clouds.

And I will enter the clouds,

My country is far away,

But I'll find you there.

O, those cardboard wings -

They're the wings of love.

_Mashina Vremeni - Cardboard Wings of Love_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: _Sorry that it took so long, but I hope you enjoy this update. They'll be much slower to come as I'm so busy with my school, you don't even know ^) So, let the Knox's feelings live! Enjoy, if possible, I hope you still want to hear from me. All the best!_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Well, I wish I was a fixer

I would fix you up inside

I would build you a town if the world fell down

I wish I was that guy

Well, I wish I was a farmer

I would grow you a Garden of Eden

I would bless the family with the gifts that granddad handed me

How wonderful that would be

Baby I'll make that guy be me.

_Jason Mraz – Frank D Fixer_

* * *

- Well?

- Well, what. Barely a thing happened, - Knox smiles and looks down. – Just – anything stopped happening at all after… well, you know.

- Yeah, I know. But something made you run away, ha? And climb into my… well, balcony. After more than three weeks! Were you reading Rapunzel or anything?

He chuckles. Knox looks up at him – and catches the curious look of his dark sly eyes.

- The life was terrible without you, - he admits finally, looking away with a shy smile. – With you all the fun and all the life slipped away, you know. Without the three of you it's unbearable to stay in that Hellton! Everybody's like zombies, or like robots – they stopped feeling. And I guess I was like them. I don't know why I decided to run away so suddenly. I just thought – I can't reach two out of three missing people. But if I find the third… how wonderful that will be…

He looks up at Charlie and sees that his eyes have lost their sly look – this happens so rarely. A soft smile is on Nuwanda's lips.

- I don't know how to thank you, really, Knoxious, - he says quietly, looking him right in the eye. – Here with my parents life wasn't any better than yours in Hellton. You know, I recovered from Neil's death after some time – well, I just thought – he wouldn't like us – me – to be dull and kill myself or anybody's self over him. But you saw this town…

He looks at Knox and his grimace is telling expressively what he thinks about the town. Knox chuckles.

- Ye-eah…

- So, you know, it was hard to survive here. But – I'm Nuwanda, aren't I? – he smirks proudly and Knox smiles widely back at him.

- I don't know what it'd be if you weren't!

- You don't have to worry. It's my destiny!

Charlie taps his shoulder. Then looks down and thinks for a little while – his smirk has disappeared. Knox looks at him silently and feels something curling up in his abdomen, something warm, it tickles him from inside and he doesn't know what it is.

Charlie finally raises his head.

- Listen, - he says. – You're a runaway anyway, and I wanna stick to you right now. As my bestie, - he winks at him and Knox wrinkles his nose with a grin of pleasure.

- Oh come on!

- No, seriously, - he raises his eyebrows and looks quite innocently, but Knox is pleased to see the sly flames on the bottom of his pupils. – We'd better go together, ha? Leave this goddamn place and just have a good time. What do you think?

Knox smiles.

- Excellent. Only we have to either rush right now…

- No, no, - Charlie brushes that aside, shaking his head quickly. – Not now, only not now. You know, lately I wake up at five o'clock every morning. Don't know what happened, but that's that. I'll wake you up, okay? It'll be much better tomorrow. We'll go and have fun, and then, when they will have already searched everything around Wellton – we'll go back there and hide somewhere right under their noses, where they surely will not look!

Knox chuckles.

- Oh ye-eah! It's too obvious for Nolan's mind!

They laugh quietly together. Finally Charlie squeezes his shoulders again for a second.

- Listen, I think it's time to go to bed, no?

- That's right, - Knox nods. – I think you'll let me sleep on the floor, ha? Won't throw me out there in the cold?

- Alas! – Charlie shrugs theatrically. – All the mattresses and blankets are in my parents' room and I don't wanna wake them up. But! I don't want you to catch something sleeping on that floor – it's really cold, man, I'm telling you – and die.

He makes a pause. He surely looks more serious than he wanted to look – after all those theatrical gestures. Knox glances down.

- Then how?

Charlie sniffs.

- Oh, you're not this stupid, Knoxious! The bed!

- And you? – he looks up at his friend, a little upset, because he thinks he knows what Nuwanda will say.

- Oh come on, it's anyway too wide for me alone! – Charlie sniffs. – You on one side, me on the other – excellent! And nobody has to sleep on the floor, right? Much more comfortable!

His sly eyes look at Knox with a little smile in them. He looks in them, trying to understand if he means it or just mocks at him. Or maybe he _knows _something? Or even _feels _something?..

He throws those thoughts away. They are just dreams. Charlie's just kidding, surely, he is!

- Very funny, - he nods understandingly. – And now seriously – just…

Charlie raises his hand to stop him.

- Seriously, - he says, looking in Knox's eyes. – You sleep here on my bed. Tonight. With me. Because if you sleep on the floor without at least five good blankets under you and about the same number over you, wearing a fur coat and a hat in addition, you'll catch a terrible cold and probably die.

Knox looks away.

- Charlie, I…

- The name is Nuwanda. Didn't think I'll have to remind that to _you_!

He looks back up at Nuwanda. He's not joking. He means it.

- Okay, Nuwanda. Listen, -

- Don't argue!

Charlie puts his hand on Knox's shoulder and squeezes it, moving a little closer.

- It's _my _house, and _I _tell you what to do here, - he says quietly and almost menacingly, though the sly flames sparkle on the bottom of his deep dark pupils.

- Oh… okay, - Knox looks down, moving a little back from Charlie and turning his face away.

_Get off, _- he thinks. Charlie's breath burns his face and his heart starts pumping. He knows that if Nuwanda doesn't move away immediately, his cheeks and ears will turn bright red. Charlie seems to hear his prayers. He lets go of his shoulder and straightens.

- Take this all off and go to bed. I'll even let you sleep near the wall, hm?

Knox smiles with the corners of his lips.

- What can I do? – he says, getting up. – It's your house.

- And you're among those few people who are welcome here, - Nuwanda says with a wide smile, making himself comfortable under the blanket. – Be grateful!

Knox turns away and lets out a little sigh. He really can do nothing. He just prays that nothing _of that _will happen at night. _You don't know how grateful I am! _– he says to Charlie in his head, casting a brief glance at him. – _And you also don't know one important thing. But you'll never know it anyway, so don't need to bother. Eh, Nuwanda, you're such a happy man! You don't have to worry…_

He throws his coat on the chair, his sweater, shirt and pants go the same way, and finally he's in his only vest and underpants. He swallows, shuddering inside, and comes up to the bed. Charlie opens his eyes for a second to look up at him – and chuckles into the pillow.

- Don't be afraid. I don't bite.

Knox smiles weakly. He climbs over Charlie to his side of the bed and turns his face to the wall, trying to move as far from his friend as he can.

- Even farther, - he hears Charlie's voice. – If I don't know something and I'm a werewolf or a vampire, you'd better be out of my reach, man!

- Very funny, Nuwanda! I just don't wanna bother you, that's all.

Charlie sniffs.

- I'll never stop laughing at you, man, - he says with a short sarcastic laugh. – I'm telling ya, I don't bite. Usually, - he adds after a second and laughs. Knox sniffs and rubs his eyes.

- Shut up already! I'm tired. Do you think that running away is an easy thing to do?

- It's _my…_

- Yours, I don't say it's mine, - Knox manages, finally annoyed.

He hears Charlie sigh and regrets his worlds.

- As you say, Knoxious, - Charlie throws over his shoulder. He sounds disappointed and kinda offended. – I'm just trying to cheer you up, you _bore_!

Knox sighs.

- I'm just too sleepy, Charlie, you see, - he tries to be calm.

- Ah well, - Charlie still sounds a bit disappointed. – Night, then!

- G'night.

He makes himself comfortable, accidentally – hopefully – brushing his back against Knox's a few times. Knox swallows silently. He kills that something rising form the bottom of his stomach, pushes it back down and waits, barely breathing, until everything is okay again. He presses his forehead to the cold wall – he feels the warmth radiating from Charlie with his back, and he wouldn't say he doesn't want to, but…

He won't admit it even to himself, but he's _afraid_ of it…

He closes his eyes and moves away from Nuwanda – though he's almost part of the wall even without that.

_I'm sorry, - _he mouths, knowing that Charlie doesn't hear. No need to be sorry if he's the same old Knox.

Though he's not the same.

* * *

_It can't be real._

That's the first thought – and the only thought pounding in his temples, with the loud rhythm of the heart, overfilling his head. This rhythm is almost painful. He doesn't know why it's so hot in this room.

He woke up ten minutes ago, or less than a second, or a few centuries ago. He doesn't even know. All that he knows is that he feels the living beating warmth so close – _too _close to be real, - and he's overwhelmed with the heat radiating from that being and its gorgeous scent. He doesn't dare to believe it's Charlie. He doesn't dare to open his eyes.

No, he dares. He looks through his eyelashes and quickly shuts his eyes tight.

_Damn it._

The vision of Charlie's shoulder. His T-shirt, the back of his neck, his hair. That's Knox's world at the moment. The little and beautiful world, his only sight, the world he doesn't want to leave. He swallows hard.

_Goddammit. Idiot, idiot, __IDIOT__! Could have remembered that you tumble. Tumble, tumble, but Go-o-od… No, this can't be real. Wake up, wake up!_

His cheek is pressed close to Charlie's warm back. He suddenly feels strange warmth curling up in his abdomen tickling his insides – and the feeling makes him break away immediately and turn away, and press his forehead and palms close to the cold wall.

_Wake up, wake up! Wake up, Knoxious, it's a dream, a sweet nightmare, this couldn't happen, no, no, NO!_

He can only pray for Charlie to be asleep.

The coldness of the wall calms him down a bit. A least he feels quite awaken now and he can think a little, though the strange mist that smells like Charlie is still filling his head. It keeps him from thinking, keeps him in some semiconscious state, when he is guided only by his subconscious mind, in some underself of his. He turns on his other side, obedient to the inner voices, much stronger than ever. He can't resist. He can't think or stop himself, he can't help but just look at that light grey T-shirt, at the little glimpse of the bare neck… not knowing what he's doing, he moves a little forward and upward, until his lips touch that warm soft skin…

That moment lasts forever. It's gorgeous and shameful, it's terribly wrong and he wants it to never end. Smooth warm skin against his lips. That's the best feeling he's ever known…

Charlie sighs quietly – and at that moment Knox understands what he's doing. He breaks away from Nuwanda, scared to death, his heart in his throat, almost jumping out. He presses his back to the cold wall, panting heavily, bright painful stars flashing in front of his eyes spinning his head around. Nuwanda mumbles something unintelligible and turns slowly on his other side, face to Knox. Now he will open his eyes, look at him and say: 'What the hell are you doing, Knoxious?' And his grey eyes will flash steel in the moonlight, and everything will be broken, and the only thing left to him will be to jump out of that very balcony, or to throw himself in front of the car, or, or…

Nuwanda sighs again, snores quietly once or twice, makes himself comfortable unconsciously – and smiles in his sleep. He hasn't waken up, and he's dreaming of something good. Knox looks at him, at his hair that has fallen on his forehead, at his soft eyelashes, at his lips, slightly parted – his warm breath reaches Knox's cheeks… and swallows quietly. He turns his back to this divine creature and closes his eyes tight. His lashes become wet – why? He winces, as if it hurts him.

_What have I done?_

_And how do I live with it now?  
_

* * *

Charlie wakes him up when it's yet almost dark. They are silent. Charlie has probably thought Know is just sleepy, or he doesn't feel like talking. And Knox doesn't know how to behave. He doesn't understand that feeling – it's new to him, that silent worry and that pulsing warmth.

They pass quietly down the corridor and downstairs, to the front door and out of the house. At the garden door Nuwanda stops and turns around, casting one last glance at the house. He's squinting a bit with the cold wind and bright white light form the silver sky. He says nothing. His eyes are solid grey, nothing can be read in them. Knox turns away and leaves the garden, not looking at Charlie. His friend follows him, glances at him, opens his mouth as if to say something – and probably decides not to. And Knox won't encourage him. And there they go, down the almost empty sleepy streets, silent, not looking at each other…


End file.
